


Uploading the Rainy Days

by fairyeyes



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-04
Updated: 2018-08-04
Packaged: 2019-06-21 15:20:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,053
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15560676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fairyeyes/pseuds/fairyeyes
Summary: “I’m sensing low emotional levels. Hank, are you feeling sadness right now?”Hank scoffed.  “And what about it? Ain’t like you’re going to do shit. Fucking android.”





	Uploading the Rainy Days

**Author's Note:**

> This is a Ko-Fi fic so I really hope my friend enjoys it! And I hope you enjoy it too~! This is also a first for me in the fandom so I really hope I did the characters justice. I was actually worried I did too much for Hank, but I'm sure you guys would let me know, right? :3

**Uploading the Rainy Days**

The elderly detective looked outside the window of his home. In the meantime, the new android that he was forced to work with stayed in the house with him. The two had been on a case where an armless android had somehow stabbed its owner to death. They had eventually figured out, well mostly Connor, that the android had purposefully removed its own arm in an effort to trick the police.

Granted, it wasn’t as though Hank didn’t do any of the work – he used his detective intuition to question the deviant and making the android reveal the trick to them. Connor had the mechanics down but it was still just a theory – until the android revealed it to Hank. All he had to do was to take advantage of the deviant.

The android itself had grown arrogant and proud of its functions that humans regularly did not have. Once the trick was revealed, the deviant was true to its name. It kept the arm that it had killed its owner as a reminder of its ‘freedom’, whatever that meant. Connor called it a logical error. Hank called it a trophy.

The robot was programmed by CyberLife to follow Hank even after cases. There was a moment in time where Hank nearly committed suicide and if it wasn’t for Connor… Hank didn’t dwell on the ifs. As a result, though, the captain had to make a request to have Connor programmed to follow Hank home just in case.

“I’m sensing low emotional levels. Hank, are you feeling sadness right now?”

Hank scoffed.  “And what about it? Ain’t like you’re going to do shit. Fucking android.”

As usual, Connor didn’t take any offense to that. Hank decided to sit down in his chair. Instead, the android continued on. Hank didn’t want to listen to him but he couldn’t help it.

“Detective Hank, from my observations, I have noticed you have quite a taste for jazz. Allow me.”

Suddenly, the room seemed to quickly echo with some jazz Hank hadn’t heard in a long time. The sound itself was as clear and crisp as it would at a live show. Hank sat in silence as Connor finally opened its mouth and ‘sang’ about a love lost in the winds of the rain and how much of a fool he was to let her go. Hank didn’t say anything for the duration of the song.

Instead, he sat there and listened to the lyrics. It was strange to have that deep baritone voice come out of an android like Connor but if his dog didn’t get up and bark, why should he? Shouldn’t he just enjoy the music that played?

And truth to be told, it soothed his soul. It brought his dark and dampened heart back to a place when Cole was alive. Not a sad moment, but a moment after he was born that Hank was at his happiest. He played this song softly in the background as he watched his baby boy sleep in the crib peacefully.

He wanted to get mad – how did Connor know about such a delicate moment? Perhaps it’s because the android must have ‘observed’ the vinyl albums he had around the house. He somehow retained his collection throughout the years, throughout the tragedy. He couldn’t bear to part with the only thing that remained of Cole aside from the singular picture he had of him – a grim reminder.

Connor ‘sang’ more until the song was over. Hank didn’t say anything – he felt too much and he was also sober. He hated that. The usual urge to drink didn’t creep up – instead, it hit him hard enough for him to clear his throat – his addiction reminding him how dry his throat was without it.

Connor didn’t stop. Another song immediately echoed in the house as the rain continued to beat against the ground, against the window, against any surface it could reach. Hank caught himself focusing more on the rain than the music. He didn’t know what Connor ‘sang’ anymore. Hank’s eyes got heavier. Was it the weight of his thoughts?

The android’s music eventually lulled him to sleep. He didn’t realize he did fall asleep. He didn’t realize when he woke up and was on the couch instead. When did Connor do such a thing? Why would he do such a thing?  It was hard to tell what time it was outside. It had been dark and gloomy with maybe a hint of brightness here and there. It hurt his head so he closed his eyes again.

The music had stopped.

“Why’d you stop?” Hank found himself muttering. He winced in pain as he lied back down to his position. He felt the fabric of a blanket that he liked. How did Connor know this? Did he ‘sense’ it? Did he observe it with whatever features CyberLife added?

Connor’s voice was quieter but it was still very clear to the detective.

“You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you up.” His voice was as crisp and clear as possible. The honesty was almost too much for Hank. He tried to stop himself from getting angry. Connor was programmed to be honest. He doesn’t ‘think’ like he, a human, did. That fact truly irritated him.

“Yeah? Why didn’t you put me in my bed? Somewhere that’s more comfortable?” He didn’t make an effort to get up. Humans would’ve scrambled for an excuse. Not Connor. Never Connor.

“The mattress in your bedroom makes the injury in your lower back worse than it already is. Until you are able to acquire a proper mattress, the couch is the firmest thing that is comfortable enough for such an anomaly in your vertebrate.”

Hank couldn’t help but laugh bitterly at that. Why was he surprised? Did he really expect him … an android, an inanimate object, to care beyond its capabilities?

The rain outside never seemed to let up though.

“Did you want me to leave, Detective Hank?”

“No,” Hank said as he drifted off to sleep once more. Even though he would never admit it out loud, but even if Connor was artificial, at least it cared enough to stay there. But was it in Connor’s program to lay a gentle and comforting touch on his shoulder?


End file.
